


Inconvenience

by ahumoroussuggestion



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Ficlet, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-10 06:18:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5573998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahumoroussuggestion/pseuds/ahumoroussuggestion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rooming together always has some issues. John is writing, Sherlock is actually trying to sleep, and the light is still on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inconvenience

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2012. Now cleaned up a bit. Let me know what you think ^^.

It was late.

The book Harry had insisted on, a used copy of _The Hobbit_ , lay face down on page four beside a plain pillow on a spartan bottom bunk. Its worn spine looked longingly across the skinny side of a cramped dorm room at the back of one 15 year old John Watson, who hadn’t quite been able to get past the dwarf introductions.

A desk light silhouetted his hunched figure sitting on an old wooden chair with wheels like a design afterthought. Bearing down onto a similarly styled table, John was writing so furiously that every so often he had to wring out his left hand. Scattered attempts to alleviate the building strain by switching the pen to his right only bore more frustration. _Pens_ , to be accurate: the last discarded after a premature and explosive death. These last days had been ones to remember, and he wanted to get the good details in while they were still fresh. Memories tinged with excitement and fondness unfurled across the pages of his well-loved journal.

After a quietude of nothing but scraping pen, intermittent cracking knuckles, and the soft creaking of the chair, his phone pinged.

**If convenient, turn light off.**

**SH**

And a timed 30 seconds later:

**If inconvenient, turn off anyway.**

**SH**

John sighed. Dropping his pen to keep the page, he swiveled around to peer accusingly at the form coiled in a white puffy mass on the top bunk.

"Sherlock," he groused, "why is it that I can't, for _once_ , stay up with _one little_ lamp while your frequent nocturnal experiments are conducted with all the bright lights and sound effects to produce most of my more horrifying dreams."

The coated creature only burrowed deeper into the covers.

John took two fingers to massage his forehead, then kneaded at the soreness of his ink stained palms. After a brief pause, he sighed, smiled resignedly, shut off the lamp, shuffled across five feet of haphazardly booby trapped floor, and slid onto his allotted mattress. "G'night."

A muffled acknowledgment was heard from above.


End file.
